


Incandescent

by thehylianmusicianandwriter



Category: The Legend of Zelda, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehylianmusicianandwriter/pseuds/thehylianmusicianandwriter
Summary: It has been two years since the Hero of Hyrule defeated Ganondorf. However, he disappeared quickly after, vanishing from the public's view. Now, the King of Hyrule has died, leaving his only daughter, Zelda, to take on the title of Queen and rule the kingdom. However, with turmoil and distrust in her court and her kingdom, she will need her knight by her side. [In Progress]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! I'll be posting the chapters as frequently as I can!

CHAPTER 1

The King of Hyrule had died, leaving his only child and last descendant to inherit the throne.

The rider came in the night, holding a piece of parchment in his satchel that detailed the events that transpired up to His Majesty’s death.

Princess Zelda was awoken by her governess, Lady Impa. “Ma’am, you must wake—it is about your father, His Majesty,” Lady Impa said, nudging the princess firmly with a hand on her shoulder.

Zelda blearily opened her eyes, the hazy, familiar form of Lady Impa taking shape in the darkness. “What…” She sat up, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.

“A rider came; your father has died, Goddess rest his soul,” Impa said, a tightness in her voice. “I am so sorry for your loss, your Grace.”

Zelda felt as if she’d been smacked in the chest with a hot fire poker. _Father’s dead?_ She threw the sheets off herself and stood up out of her bed. She looked up at her governess, her eyebrows kneaded together as she held her voice steady. “Thank you, Lady Impa, for informing me. I’ll be downstairs shortly; please allow me to myself for a moment.”

Lady Impa curtsied, lowering her eyes. “Yes, my Queen.” She turned and left Zelda alone in her chambers.

Queen.

Zelda turned the word over in her mind.

Queen.

She mouthed the word.

Queen.

She shut her eyes and wrapped herself in her own arms tightly, a cool breeze from an open window sending gooseflesh erupting across her skin, her nightshift doing little to protect her. “Goddess Hylia, please guard my father’s soul, and allow him eternal rest in your bountiful lands. And,” she added more quietly, “please help guide me.” She opened her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, steadying herself. _Now is not the time for weakness,_ she told herself. _You are the Queen of Hyrule now, and much is expected of you._

Zelda left her chamber and descended the spiral staircase to find Lady Impa, Lord Kyrion, Lord Wyncaster, and the rider standing together in the main hall. The few candles lit during this time of the night flickered around the party, illuminating their grimaces.

They all turned their eyes upon Zelda as she emerged from the staircase and bowed in unison.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Kyrion said in his husky voice. “On behalf of the Kingdom of Hyrule, I apologise for your loss.”

Zelda nodded in acknowledgment, but went straight to the rider, her bare, delicate feet padding along the wooden floor quietly. “I am thankful to the Goddess for your quick riding skills, my dear rider.” She looked at the parchment in his hand and extended her own. “May I?”

“Of-of course, your Majesty.” He handed her the parchment. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Zelda unrolled the parchment, her eyes quickly skimming the ink-blotched words, written in longhand Hylian.

_24 th of June_

_King Rhoam Nohansen, of the Great Kingdom Hyrule, took his last breath at half-past midnight this night. It is with great sadness that I declare the King dead, having returned to the Goddess in all her glory. He suffered from a great and fatal wound in the abdomen whilst boar hunting with a hunting party._

_King Rhoam Nohansen had but one verbal request during his final moments, and that was for his daughter, the Princess Zelda, to be guarded at all times by the Hero of Hyrule, Sir Link. I trust that contact will be sent out to reach the Hero._

_May the Goddess Hylia rest the King’s soul and bless the Queen Zelda of Hyrule._

_Respectfully yours,_

_Dr. Rane Rigotto, Royal Physician_

 Zelda looked up from the letter. “A hunting accident?” She said through clenched teeth. Her face grew hot as she struggled to keep her composure.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lord Wyncaster said quietly. “A hunting accident.” He bowed his head.

Zelda took a sharp, deep breath. “Preparations will have to be made for his funeral. Lord Wyncaster, I trust you can begin arrangements quickly?”

“Yes, ma’am. As your secretary, I will do so immediately.”

“Good, yes, thank you.”

“Your Majesty, if you don’t mind me asking—what about the king’s last request? I mean surely…no one has seen the Hero since he slayed Ganondorf two years ago. He refused our honours, only accepting a silly knighthood, and vanished like fog in sunlight! How will we be able to honour your father’s request?” Lord Kyrion said, doubt etched on his face.

Zelda turned to Lady Impa. “I trust you can contact him?”

Lady Impa nodded once, crossing her arms.

Zelda sighed. “Thank you, Lady Impa. Find the Hero for me, please.”

“Yes, my Queen.” Lady Impa laid a gentle hand on Zelda’s face. “I’ll have him here within the week, I assure you.” She kissed Zelda once on the cheek, then turned and left the hall, disappearing into the shadows.

~*~*~

The deer ate the green grass quietly, unassuming, though its ears flicked back and forth in response to the natural sounds of the woods.

Link admired the buck from his hiding spot, high up in a large oak tree, overlooking the forest. He hadn’t moved from the crook in the branch for close to four hours; he had waited a long while for this buck to come through his patch of the forest.

Link silently knocked his bow. _Steady now,_ he told himself, closing one eye to look down the arrow’s shaft. He aimed directly at the buck’s chest, right between the ribs, where the heart lay. He could almost hear the large heart beating, pushing the red blood through its circulatory system. In one swift motion, he released the arrow.

_Thunk!_

Quickly but silently, the deer hit the ground, a few tiny birds flittering away from the commotion. Link hopped down from his branch, landing skilfully on two feet. He slung the bow around his chest as he made his way over to the deer, stepping over mossy logs and stones.

He knelt down beside the deer, looking over it. Dead on impact, he determined. There was little blood coming from the arrow wound, though the red fluid still oozed out, trickling down the deer’s girth.

Link rubbed his chin, the prickles of his growing beard scratching against his roughened fingers. He always felt terrible after taking an animal’s life, but he needed to eat.

He sent up a quick prayer of forgiveness and thanks to the Goddess before wrapping his fingers around the arrow shaft. He placed his boot on the animal’s chest, ready to yank the arrow out.

“Nice shot.”

Link whipped around. In one swift move, he yanked the arrow out and knocked it to his bow to face the voice.

He sighed and lowered the bow when he saw who it was. “Impa.”

Impa came forward out of the shadows, her lithe figure dressed in a tight black and blue suit. She approached him, crossing her arms as she did so. “How are you, Hero?”

“I’m finding isolation to be fantastic, actually, thanks for asking. How’d you find me, and why are you here?”

Impa sighed, meeting his eyes. “I’m a Sheikah, Sir Link. I have my ways. You look—and smell—terrible. Why don’t I take you to a local inn; you could get some rest, maybe bathe. Maybe even get a drink? My treat.”

Link scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Impa, I’m fine. And, please, don’t call me ‘Sir’ anything. You know just ‘Link’ is fine. Just tell me why you’re here.”

She looked away into the forest, setting a hand on her hip. Her eyebrows twitched as she thought, trying to piece together the right words to pursue the Hero to trust and follow her.

She looked back at Link, resolved. “The king died a few nights ago.”

Link blinked. “Oh,” he said. “How?”

“Hunting accident. Boar,” she said.

“That’s too bad,” Link said. “He was always kind to me.”  

“His last request involves you. And Zelda.”

Link blinked again, silent.

“Will you take up on my offer now?” Impa said, sounding weary.

Link looked between her and his deer, contemplating. “Will you help me with this?”

“Sure. Where?”

“Not far, just up into that tree.” Link waved a gloved hand, indicating the big oak tree towering above them. Impa blinked, staring at him incredulously.

Link sighed. “It’s just to keep the other wildlife—like bears and such—away from my kill. I’ll toss a rope over the branch to pulley it up. Here,” Link reached into his pack, pulling out a thick rope. He handed one end to Impa. “Can you tie this end around the hind legs of the deer?” As Impa leaned down besides the deer, Link tied the other end of the rope to the shaft of an arrow. After Impa had finished tying the deer’s leg’s together, Link shot the arrow over the largest branch, watching as it landed and dangled on the other side. He went up to it and untied the arrow, and began pulling the rope. The deer’s body dragged through the leaves and grass until it finally lifted up off the ground. Link could feel his arm muscles straining from the deer’s weight, but continued pulling until the deer hung high up in the tree, its body swaying slightly from the effort.

Link staked the rope into the ground, ensuring the rope’s tension with a twang from his finger against it. He turned to Impa, hands on his waist. “Alright, I think I’d like that drink now. Lead the way.”

~*~*~

After they’d made their way out of the forest, Impa led Link to the local inn, where he was able to bathe and shave.

He dressed quickly, pulling a green and brown tunic over his head, thoughts about the king and Zelda rushing through his mind like a river. Impa had refused to tell Link anything until they’d gotten to the inn; now, she was waiting downstairs for him in the pub.

He came down the stairs, his wet, dark blonde hair sticking in every which way. Link had appreciated the wash, though he didn’t want to admit it to Impa. He’d been fine living alone off the land; he didn’t need anyone’s help.

He took the stool next to Impa at the bar and requested two pints from the bartender.

“So,” Link began, “What was the king’s last request, and how does it involve me?”

Impa took a sip of her drink. “He specifically requested that you— _you_ —guard the Queen. Which means that you will have to come to Hyrule Castle with me, and begin your royally appointed duty of guarding her.”

Link took a gulp of his pint, swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing it. “No. I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Impa looked at him, bewildered. “Excuse me?”

“I just—I can’t, alright? The princess—Queen, sorry—I’m sure she’s perfectly safe. She’s the most important figure in Hyrule, I’m certain she’s got plenty of guards around her at all moments. Why would she need me?”

“Link—you’re the Hero, you were specifically asked by the king himself. It was his dying request, for you to protect his daughter.”

He sighed, tapping his forefinger against the bar, saying nothing for a few long moments.

Impa rubbed her face. “Where have you been the last two years? After you killed Ganondorf, you just disappeared.”

Link shrugged. “Wandering. I’ve been wandering.”

“Aren’t you tired of wandering?”

Link drummed his fingers against the cool glass of his drink. “When you disappear for a long enough time, people forget what you look like. It’s been nice, being able to blend, without people demanding you to tell stories of your adventures, and how you defeat the greatest threat to the kingdom. I like being invisible, and I’ve been surviving just fine on my own in the forest, making my way from town to town. I just avoid the main roads. I hunt, and eat what I hunt, and I survive.” He shrugged. “I like wandering.”

“As her private guard, you’d retain anonymity, Link. But you’d have a warm bed, food, and a home. And,” she added, “a purpose.”

Link searched her face, frowning slightly, his eyebrows pulled together.

“I think Zelda would like to see you, too. At the very least, come to the castle with me and see her again. She’s been worrying about you for two years, now. Without a single word from you.”

Link thought for a moment, trying to weigh the pros and cons in his mind, though the idea of seeing Zelda again dominated all other thoughts. They had grown close before Ganondorf’s defeat, working long nights together to formulate a plan that would result in him being cast forever into the Dark Realm. Last Link had seen her, it had been the night after the knighting ceremony, where it seemed the entirety of Hyrule had gathered to thank the Hero for rescuing their kingdom. She had been naked beneath him, his name on the edge of her trembling lips, their sweating bodies—

Link closed his eyes tightly, pushing away her image. He wanted to see her again. He wanted to protect her, always—it was embedded deep in his soul to protect her.

Link downed the rest of his pint in one gulp and slammed the glass down on the table. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But this doesn’t mean I’m taking the job, alright? I’m just coming with, to put Zelda’s mind at ease.”

Impa raised an eyebrow, inspecting her drink curiously, avoiding Link’s eyes. “Mhm, alright. We leave first thing in the morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow sorry guys, I totally forgot to upload my next chapter! This is a treat, though, because chapters 2 AND 3 will be up at the same time! I hope you enjoy; please comment if you feel so inclined! :)

CHAPTER 2

            The next morning arrived quickly. Link and Impa bought two cheap but strong horses from the stablemaster and were well on their way down the main road to Hyrule Castle. Link estimated it would be about a day’s journey.

            It had been a while since he’d last ridden. Epona, his last steed, had been killed during his final battle with Ganondorf; a stray arrow from a riding Bokoblin had hit her, straight in the chest. Link had badly bruised his leg when she’d fallen on her side, crushing his leg, forcing him to watch her in her final moments before he managed to slip out from under her.

            Link shook his head, clearing his mind of the memory. He leaned forward in the saddle and patted his horse’s neck. His calloused hand trembled slightly.

            Impa glanced at him, gently pulling the reins on her steed. “Are you alright?”

            Link looked up, steadying his hand. “What? Yeah, I’m fine.” He leaned back in the saddle, taking in the cool morning breeze, the sunshine warming his face. He’d always loved riding; the soothing, solid feeling of his horse beneath him, swinging each of its strong legs up and out as it carried him down the long road was something that he had missed dearly.

            Link was happy with the silence that carried on between them; he had always liked Impa, though he had found her to be pushy and demanding at times, especially when it involved anything regarding Zelda. However, Link knew to not go against Impa in those scenarios; being a Sheikah, she was bound by a generations-old oath to protect the Hyrule royal family by any means necessary. Regardless, he liked her; she was a worthy companion. He hoped she thought the same of him.

            “So,” Link began, “How’s the kingdom been holding up for the past two years?”

            Impa adjusted herself in the saddle. “Well, the King just died, as you know, and the Council of Advisors are not confident that their Queen is fit to rule; even at twenty they believe that she is too young and inexperienced,” she scoffed. “She helped lead Hyrule to its success during the war, for Goddess’s sake!” She let out a long sigh. “Construction crews are still trying to rebuild parts of Castle Town; most of the shops are back in order, but a lot of the archways and cobblestones still need to be repaired. They just managed to get the Centre Fountain working again, though; want to guess who they put in the centre, made of stone with water shooting out of his ass?”

            Link grimaced.  

            “The Hero of Hyrule! It’s a close enough look-alike, though now that I’m seeing you properly again for the first time in two years, I think they made your nose a bit big.” Impa squinted at him, then grinned.

            Link rolled his eyes. “Great, thanks. I look forward to seeing a caricature of myself with a giant nose and a jet of water shooting out of my ass.”

            They travelled like this for another few hours, the castle in the distance getting closer and closer as the sun made its daily travel across the impeccably blue sky.

            As Link was enjoying the warm sunshine beating down on his face, a sudden chill went through his spine.

            A forewarning.

            Link stopped his horse, reaching to his back for the Master Sword. It crackled with quiet energy in his hand, ready for its master to wield it. He drew it carefully and slowly, eyes scanning the road ahead.

            Impa came up beside him, stopping her horse. “What is it?” She said quietly, tightening her grip on the reins.

            “I don’t know,” Link said through gritted teeth. He glanced at the thin shrubbery that lined the road, seeing nothing but wind moving dark shadows.

            Impa drew her naginata from her waist belt, trained eyes scanning carefully.

            Suddenly, three large, red Bokoblins jumped out of the bushes, screaming their piggish sounds, waving around Boko spears haphazardly.

            Link and Impa made eye contact, exchanging a message of brief simplicity.

            The two of them kicked their horses forward toward the Bokoblins, both parties’ weapons at the ready. Link leaned forward in the saddle, ready to come up on the Bokoblin’s side, the Master Sword tight in his grip. He raised his weapon as the Bokoblin raised its spear, but Link was much quicker, and slashed at the monster’s belly. Link could feel his sword slicing through the flesh, a sickening, squishing sound erupting from the action.

            He yanked on the reins and swung his horse around to assess the situation. Impa had successfully killed one of the Bokoblins, its body left bleeding on the road. The last Bokoblin looked between Impa and Link, contemplating. After a moment’s hesitation, it dropped its spear and ran back into the forest, disappearing into the shadows.

            Link sheathed his sword as Impa approached him, a huge smile on her face. “That was great,” she said. “I haven’t had that much fun in a while.”

            They nudged their horses onward down the road. Link took a deep breath, letting the adrenaline in his veins settle. “Yeah, that last Bokoblin was smarter than I’ve seen before; normally they don’t show that kind of self-preservation.” He looked upwards, seeing the magnificent Hyrule Castle in the distance. His stomach clenched.

            Hour later, as the sun was beginning to get low in the sky, Impa and Link reached the front gates of Castle Town, the large castle of its namesake towering high above behind the grey walls.

            As they approached the drawbridge and gates, the two guards stationed there came forward to meet them.

            “Hello,” one of the guards said. “May I ask who you both are?”

            “My name is Lady Impa; I am her Majesty’s governess. And this is just a companion of mine,” she said, inclining her head toward Link.

            The two guards glanced between the traveling pair, nodding their heads. “Alright, go on through.”

            “Thanks,” Impa said, and went through the archway into Castle Town, Link and his horse close behind her.

            Link nudged his horse forward so that he could walk beside  Impa. He looked around; the last time he had seen Castle Town, it had been in ruins. Now, however, most everything seemed to be repaired, and life once again ran through the city. Shopkeepers were in front of their doors, sweeping or calling out price reductions on their merchandise. Children were running back and forth across the cobblestone, screaming and yelling as they ran from each other in their silly games. Link and Impa passed by the centre fountain. He grimaced, seeing the crude marble rendition of himself. His figure was holding the Master Sword up towards the sky, a continuous fountain of water coming from the top of the sword, falling back into the pool of water below. Etched into the base at which his figure was standing on were many small Triforces. The Royal Crest was engraved on a large piece of marble beside him.

            Impa snorted. “Oh, it isn’t that bad. Stop looking like a tomato,” she said. “We’re going to take a back path to the castle; I believe the Queen is in her private gardens.”

            Impa led him behind some shops into a quiet alleyway, which led on for at least twenty minutes, spiralling its way up toward the castle. As they rode; Link was able to see the large, black flags that they’d thrown over the castle walls. The black flags had white Royal Crests sewn into them. They were for the king, Link realised.

            They passed by multiple guards as they ascended out of the alleyway and into the back road that led towards the backside of the castle, though these guards seemed to know Impa, and merely nodded at her. Impa led them up the road and through some gates, entering the castle grounds.

            Impa led them towards a large stable. “We’ll drop our horses off here,” she said, hopping off her horse’s back. Link did the same, bringing the reins over his horse’s head.

            A short, bald, elderly man came out of the stable doors, a focused expression on his wrinkled face. He looked up, and upon seeing Impa, he smiled and hobbled over.

            “Lady Impa!” He said, bowing his head. “How are you?”

            “I’m quite well, Ian. I have just returned from a trip; can I beg of you to take my and my companion’s horse?”

            Ian nodded vigorously, taking the reins from both Impa and Link. “Of course.” He looked at Link, an eyebrow raised. “May I ask for your name, good sir?”

            “Link,” he said, inclining his head. Ian grabbed his hand and shook it heartily. His grip was strong.

            “Name’s Ian; I’m the royal stablemaster. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Link.” He smiled. “Hyrule owes you.”

            Link smiled awkwardly, looking away. “No trouble,” he mumbled.

            “Well, we must be on our way. Thank you, Ian, for your assistance. I hope your great-granddaughter is doing well; I will be sure to come by your grandson’s home and pass on my blessings,” Impa said.

            Ian chuckled. “Thank you, my dear! Only three months old, but I can already tell she’s a fighter. Good evening,” he said to Link and Impa, and led their horses back to the stables.

            “Nice man,” Link said, when they were out of earshot. “How old is he?”

            “Ninety-one,” she said. “Ian is a good man; he’s been the stablemaster since his father passed away some fifty-odd years ago. The family’s almost as old as the royal family. They’ve been caring for the horses for just as long,” she said as they ascended the steps to the garden.

            They approached a large gate, flanked on either side by tall, green garden bushes. Link took a deep breath, trying to settle the turmoil in his gut. Impa pushed open the gates, and the two of them walked into the private garden of the queen. Link’s heart jumped into his throat at the sight of her.

She looked beautiful; her lovely blue gown quivered gently around her feet, and a silver and gold tiara sat graciously upon her golden hair.

            Zelda was standing on the far side of the garden, staring at the beautiful Silent Princess flowers, though her mind was far elsewhere.

            Impa cleared her throat. “Your Grace,” she said, pulling Zelda out of her trance.

             Zelda turned around. Her mind went blank.  

             It was Link.

             Heat rushed to her cheeks. She took in a sharp breath; she had been expecting him soon, since she had sent Impa out to search for him, and yet her heart felt as if it had jumped up into her throat.

             “Hero,” she said quietly. She cleared her throat. “Hero,” she repeated, louder, more authoritative.

              “Queen Zelda,” Link said, bowing deeply to her. Zelda caught a glimpse of the Master Sword’s handle, and her stomach knotted. “I heard about your father. You have my deepest apologies. He was a good king, and a great man.”

            “Thank you,” Zelda said, clasping her hands, trying to look like a true queen. She turned to Impa. “Would you be so kind as to give Sir Link and I a moment of privacy?”

             Impa nodded and left the gardens, closing the tall gate behind her.

             Link fiddled his fingers together, trying to assess and decide his course of action. He approached Zelda. “Listen, I—”

             Zelda slapped him across the face.

            “You bastard!” she said, her blue eyes alight with anger. “You left me! No note, nothing to indicate where you had gone! And then you disappear for two years into the mountains—for what?! To become a mountain man? To live off the land?!”

            Link rubbed his cheek, the sting of her hand spreading over the left side of his face. “Too bad you didn’t see me with the beard.”

           Zelda stared at him, trying against her wishes to imagine what a scruffy, rough, mountainous Link must have looked like. “I’m sure it looked absolutely awful on you.”

           “I apologise, my Queen.” Link bowed his head slightly.

            “No, stop it! Don’t you ‘my Queen’ me. I’m very angry with you!” She turned away from him, vicious thoughts running like rabbits through her mind.

            Link took a deep breath. “Listen, Zelda, I’m so sorry—”

            She whipped back around, poking him in the chest with her forefinger. “No, you be quiet and listen to me! We fought a war together, spent days planning and drawing up battle tactics—my father listened to you over his own general! For Goddess’s sake, we spent _nights_ together!” She hissed. “Before the war, before the Master Sword chose you, you were no more than a young, unruly soldier. But after you became the Hero and we worked so hard together, I had faith in you. My father had faith in you!”

            Link looked at her, exasperated. “Had faith in me to do what?! I’d done my duty, I protected Hyrule, I killed Ganondorf! I didn’t realise that there was an epilogue to it! You know the ancient stories, you know that you have the Goddess’s blood and I have the Hero’s spirit or whatever. I was literally born to defeat evil! What was I supposed to do after?!”

            “Stayed with me! Chosen _me_!”

            The two glared at each other for a few long, silent moments, though Link’s gut wrenched with guilt. He had hurt her. A gentle breeze blew through the garden, fluttering Zelda’s blue dress around her feet.

            Link took a step back and sighed, bringing a calloused hand down his face. “I’m here because your father made his last request be that I act as your personal guard and protect you. I’m bound by my honour and my duty to the country and the monarch to do as he asked. But, seeing as you’re now the head monarch, if you do not want me here, I can leave.”

            Zelda dropped her head into her hand, closing her eyes tightly. “Just, tell me—why did you leave? After our last night together?”

            Link opened his mouth to respond, but just then, Impa came through the garden doors behind him. She bowed her head in acknowledgment, glancing between the two.

            “Your Grace. I have been sent to make you both aware that dinner shall be served soon, in the dining hall. Link, if you would like, I can show you where your sleeping quarters will be—assuming you’re staying?” She looked at him questioningly.

            Link glanced at Zelda. “Yes, that would be great. Thanks.” He turned to follow Impa out of the gardens. He looked back at Zelda. “Guess I’ll see you at dinner.”


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

            Zelda watched as Link left with Impa, once again alone in her garden. She threw her head back and let out a long sigh, crossing her arms.

            She looked up at the evening sky. A few stars were beginning to appear, despite the grey clouds that overhung above the castle. A small breeze swept across her, sending gooseflesh up her arms.

            Half of her had stubbornly refused to believe that Link would come, despite Impa’s attempt. That half of her hadn’t even wanted Link to come—she was more than capable of protecting herself, let alone the fact that she had the Royal Guard with her at practically every moment. The other half of her, however, had known that Link was honourable, and that he would come at a moment’s notice if there was any indication that she was in danger.

            But what danger was she in? Link was right; they’d already vanquished the greatest evil of their lifetimes, so what danger was left? Zelda thought about her father. There must have been a reason he had requested for Link to return and protect her, but what was that reason?

            Zelda shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She pushed a piece of stray hair behind her ear and strode out of the garden.

~*~*~

            “I know the room isn’t much—it hasn’t been used in years, but I hope it suits you.”

            Link glanced about the room, hands on his hips. It was a pleasant, simple room, only down the staircase from where the Queen’s room resided. The room held a bed, a closet, a desk, and a weapons display case. It also had a large, glass door that opened out onto a small balcony, overlooking Hyrule Field.

            Link turned to Impa. “What makes you think I’m staying?”

            She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You are definitely staying. The Queen—she wants you here, as much as she may say otherwise.”

            “What makes you think I want to be here?”

            Impa raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

            Link rubbed his chin, still not entirely used to the smoothness, and returned his gaze to the room. “It’s definitely an improvement from sleeping in trees.”

            Impa chuckled. “Good. If you want, you can leave your weapons and bag here before we go down to the dining hall.”

            Link dropped his bag, quiver, and bow on the bed. He reached his hand back to unclasp the Master Sword, but hesitated. He dropped his hand, and strode out of the room, closing the door behind him. Impa glanced at the sheathed sword but said nothing.

            Impa led Link down the stairs and through a maze of hallways until they entered a large room, lined with flickering candles, a large table centred in the middle. Zelda sat at the head of the table, with two empty seats beside her; four women sat farther down the table, chattering to the Queen in high, bird-like voices.

            The five women stopped talking and turned their heads to stare at Link. He looked at each of them, finally settling his gaze on Zelda, who stared back. Link couldn’t decipher the expression on her face. He bowed. She inclined her head in acknowledgment.

            Impa took her seat besides Zelda as a servant pulled the chair out for her. Link followed Impa’s lead and approached the chair on Zelda’s other side. Another servant pulled it out for him, and he took his seat.

            Zelda cleared her throat. “Ladies, this is Sir Link. He will be in my attendance from now on. Sir Link,” Zelda continued, “I’m glad you could join us this evening. These are my ladies-in-waiting. Lady Elisabeth, Lady Sara, Lady Olivia, and Lady Isobel.” She gestured to her ladies individually as they inclined their heads at their name.

            “Nice to meet you,” Link said.

            Just then, multiple servants came out carrying large plates, filled with delectable meat, cheese, and fruits. They gently placed the plates in front of everyone, with another servant coming around and placing goblets of wine.

            Link picked up his fork and was just about to stab a large piece of cooked Cucco breast when he got a swift kick in the shin from Zelda, who had her hands folded in prayer. She glared at him, disapproving.

            Link put his fork back down and placed his hands together, mimicking everyone else at the table.

            “Goddess Hylia,” Zelda began, “thank you for the plentiful food you have provided for us, your humble servants, and the kingdom of Hyrule. May you always smile upon us.”

            She unclasped her hands, and everyone else did the same.

            They ate in pleasant silence for a few minutes, the clink of silverware against the ceramic plates filling in the quiet. Link ate forkful after forkful of the delicious Cucco breast, taking sips of wine between each bite. He hadn’t eaten like this in a long time and was savouring every inch of the plate in front of him.

            “So, Sir Link,” one of the ladies began. Link swallowed and looked up at Lady Isobel. Her red hair was curled ridiculously around her head. “I hope your journey here was not long nor hard. What is it that brings you to Her Majesty’s services?”

            “Thank you,” Link began. “I’m here to—”

            Zelda interrupted him. “He’s here because I am considering him for the position of General of the Army, Lady Isobel,” she said quickly.

           Link dropped his fork, sending it clattering to the stone ground. He stared at Zelda in complete surprise.

          Zelda glanced at him and looked back at Lady Isobel. “As you know, it has been recently discovered that General Poggins deserted his post during the Great War and is due for his trial soon, and the interim General is…” Zelda paused. “more or less incompetent. So, I am hoping that the Council will approve my choice of Sir Link as the new General. His experiences in battle make him an excellent candidate, in my opinion.”

            Lady Isobel nodded. “Yes, I agree.” She looked at Link. “Having the Hero of Hyrule as your General…well, there is no better option, is there?”

            The other ladies chattered their agreement. A heat spread over Link’s face and neck. General?! What was Zelda thinking? He had no business overseeing a whole army!

             “Sir Link,” Lady Elisabeth said, pulling her head out of the chatter. “Could I beg of you to tell us one of your adventures? Your time traversing Hyrule during the Great War—well, there have been songs and stories written about you, but we would be more than honoured to hear one from the Hero himself!”

             “Yes, Sir Link, woo us with an adventure!” Lady Sara cooed.

             The tips of Link’s ears went bright red. He bent over and picked up his dropped fork; a servant came over and quickly replaced it with a new one. “Erm, that’s quite alright, they’re pretty boring,” Link mumbled, looking down at his plate.

              “Oh, I doubt that, very much! There’s a song that the bards sing—oh, your Majesty, what was it called? —well, anyway, it is about how you travelled to Gerudo Valley in search of an ancient, sacred flame—"

              Link abruptly stood up. “Excuse me for a moment—” with a glance at Zelda, he turned quickly and left the room, leaving the women in a hanging silence.

             He didn’t know where he was going, but he didn’t really care, as all he was searching for was a quiet place where he could stop his pounding heart and catch his breath.

             After wandering the convoluted hallways for what seemed like forever, he stumbled upon an open balcony, the wind whipping the drapes around the doorway. Link went out and took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool night air. He leaned against the stone handrail and looked out over Castle Town, the lights of the denizens’ windows smattering the view like fireflies. Link took in another deep breath, trying to slow his heartrate and calm himself down. This was exactly what he didn’t want; Impa had said he would remain anonymous, and now people are demanding him again to talk about the Great War as if it were simple dinner conversation, with Zelda suddenly pushing for him to be the damn General of the Army without even discussing it with him first—

             “Link?”

             Link whipped around, his hand on his sword’s hilt. Zelda stood in the doorway, concern in her eyes. Link dropped his hand and turned back around, leaning against the railing. Zelda opened her mouth, then closed it again, and instead walked over and leaned against the railing beside him. They stood together in silence for a few moments, the wind whipping around them as they overlooked Castle Town.

           “I apologise. About my nosy ladies, I mean,” Zelda said. “They’re nice girls, really—just, not the brightest, unfortunately.”

           Link rubbed his hand against his cheek but said nothing.

           Zelda looked at Link, though he refused to make eye contact with her. “I’m sure you don’t like talking about it. I certainly don’t.” She took in a small breath. “That war we fought was…terrible. And, it was filled with terrible losses, and I am sorry that they brought it up to you.”

           Link shrugged, watching an owl swoop by. “‘Woo us with an adventure’?” Link said mockingly.

           Zelda let out a small, pleasant laugh. “The women here are most certainly romantics. Don’t concern yourself with them, please.”

           Link huffed. “Why are you making me the General? I didn’t come here for that, I came here on your father’s wishes, to protect you.”

          “Oh. Well, because I believe that you would make an excellent leader. The Army needs someone with a strong hand. Someone who won’t flee in the face of danger.”

           Link stood up straight and faced Zelda. He had a sudden, strong urge to kiss her. “You have lieutenants and majors that are much more suited to that than me. I fought alone against Ganondorf, I’ll continue fighting alone whilst protecting you. Being General wasn’t what I signed up for when I came back with Impa. I came here to keep you safe. So, why me?” He searched her blue eyes.

          She looked away, out towards the city below. “I fear there’s…mistrust in the Council. They seem to be under the impression that I am an incompetent ruler, due to my youth. I’m twenty years old, and I’m the holder of the Triforce of Wisdom, for Goddess’s sake! My father has been dead for four days. Without my father’s strong hand to guide the Council, they’ve been under the assumption that I am weaker, more pliable, more willing to bend to their wills; they’ve been putting forth choices for the position of General, each of which are politically motivated, of course.” Zelda’s grip tightened on the railing, her knuckles turning white. “I need someone I trust. Someone who will do what is right, who will not be swayed by the nasty political games the Council plays.” She looked back at him, eyes wide.

         “Zelda, it isn’t…I’m not cut out to be that kind of leader. I wasn’t really raised in this world, of noblemen and ladies and courts; both my parents were farmers, and I only joined the low ranks of the army as a teenager because I was good with a sword and needed to help my father with payments.” Link rubbed his chin again. “It was just luck that I happened to be in the army when I was chosen by the Master Sword.”

          “Link, at this point, I think we both know that there’s no such thing as luck.”

          He sighed, torn over this decision. Agreeing to be the new General would drastically change his life, even more so than just being Zelda’ private guard. Yet, being the General would allow him to utilise the army in case of any threats in a more useful manner than the previous General had done. Goddess knew how poorly the army was handled during the Great War.

          Link leaned over and kissed her cheek gently, her smooth skin soft under his lips. “Okay. I’ll do my best. I’m still your personal guard, though, no matter what you say.”

         Zelda smiled. Link’s stomach knotted, and he smiled back. “Thank you.” She put her hand over his. “Really, I mean it. Thank you.”

         A beat of silence passed between them, the air seeming to crackle, before Link broke the gaze and looked back over the city. Zelda withdrew her hand.

         “So, what’s next then? I assume I’m going to have to go in front of the Council or something?” Link said.

        Zelda nodded. “Yes. In three days, I have my coronation ceremony. Then, two days after that, we must meet with the Council so that I can present you as a candidate for the position of General of the Army. It requires a unanimous vote for new positions as important as yours—this one, I mean—so we will really need to sway them.” Zelda blew a strand of hair out of her face, eyebrows creased in worry. She turned back to him. “I’m sorry for slapping you earlier. Even though you deserved it,” she added.

        Link laughed. “It’s okay, you’re right—I did deserve it. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry.” He looked out to the dark night. “It wasn’t anything you did, I just…I don’t know.”

        Zelda nodded. “It’s alright.”

        Link put his hand over Zelda’s and inched closer to her. “It’s getting late, don’t you think?”

        Zelda felt the heat rush into her cheeks. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yes, I do. Will you escort me?”

        Together, they wandered through the hallways and up the staircase, talking of light-hearted subjects to each other as they reached Zelda’s chambers, laughing as they did so.

        Zelda opened her door with her key. She looked at Link expectantly, a coy smile on her lips. “Well?” she said, gesturing inside.

        Link smiled. “That’s quite scandalous, don’t you think, your Majesty? To have your private guard enter your chambers at such a late hour.”

       Zelda’s smile widened playfully.

       Link ran his hand down her arm and lifted her hand to his lips, gently kissing it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my Queen. Good evening.”  

       With one last look, he turned and descended the stairs, leaving Zelda alone in her chamber doorway, her heart beating hard in her chest.

~*~*~

             Zelda never knew her mother; she had died whilst giving birth to Zelda. Even though she had never met her mother, it was on days like these that she craved for that motherly affection and guidance. Impa had done well over Zelda’s life to more or less fill that gap, but Zelda knew that there was still something missing.

            Of course, there would be no other day like this.

            Coronation day.

            Zelda sat at her vanity in her chambers, staring at her reflection, going over every minute detail of her face. Yes, she was queen, but today she would become the official Queen of Hyrule.

            A painter was going to come in and paint her portrait in the next week; then, her portrait would be placed in the Great Hall, along with all the past rulers of Hyrule, many of whom had also been given the name Zelda. Her painting would be placed beside her father’s.

           Zelda vaguely wondered if her painting would look anything like her; the painters always seemed to make the subjects prettier than they really were.

            A brief knock at the door pulled her out of her trance.

           “Enter,” Zelda said.

            Her hairdresser, Grace, opened the large wooden door. “It’s me, ma’am. Are you ready?” She was a small, mousy woman with three children of her own. Her own hair was always thrown up in a bun, despite her reputation as being one of the best hairdressers the royal family had ever seen, in Zelda’s opinion.

           Zelda smiled. “Yes, Grace.”

           Grace came in, carrying a large bag filled with brushes, combs, and other materials to help hold in the braids that the Queen was known for. She placed the bag behind Zelda’s chair and ran her fingers through the Queen’s long hair. “What are we thinking today, ma’am? It’s a very important day, it is. Need you to be looking your absolute best when they place the crown on your head.”

            Zelda sighed. “Whatever you think, Grace. You are the expert.”

            She laughed and began braiding Zelda’s hair. “I’ll be sure to make you look regal.”

~*~*~

            Link stood outside the Throne Room, watching as the lords and ladies meandered past him into the large room. He adjusted his armour, hot in its tight embrace around his body. He hated wearing metal armour; it was too confining and too loud, as it hindered smooth movements, and clanked around whenever he stepped.  

            Impa swam out of the crowd, tapping him on the shoulder. “Are you alright?” She looked over him. “What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be inside, waiting for her Majesty!”

            Link looked at her, exasperated. “Why do I have to wear this stupid armour?” He said.

            “Because you’re a royally-appointed knight.”

            Link groaned.

            “And, yes, I know you’re not happy that you aren’t allowed to bring the Master Sword into the ceremony, but no one else can have weapons in there, and, unfortunately, you can’t be an exception this time,” Impa said. “Now get in there!”

            Link grunted and, with a shove from Impa, entered the Throne Room. Most of the noblemen and women had already taken their seats. The Council of Advisors sat together in the front rows, and the clergymen stood on the back wall beside the throne. A quintet orchestra sat in the corner, their violins and cellos resting while they waited. The other knights stood against the walls around the room as a symbol of protection. They all wore the same armour as him—silver metal, with the red and blue royal crest emblazoned on the chest plate.

            Link went over to the wall and stood amongst the other knights, giving nods to the two he was squeezing between. One of the knights looked him over.

            “Wait—aren’t you Sir Link?”

            “Yep.”

            “The Hero, Link?”

            Link sighed. He knew where this was going. “Yep.”

            “Why aren’t you—”

            Link waved his hand as he saw the Queen’s figure in the archway. “Please shut up, it’s beginning.”

            The room was filled with silence as Zelda entered. Everyone in their chairs turned around to look at her. She was beautiful.

            She was wearing a blue and white gown, with a long white train extending from her neck to the ground, flowing gently behind her, the golden Triforce stitched into it. She was wearing her tiara, which signified the Princess she had been. Her hair had complicated braids weaving together throughout their descent over her back.

            Link felt as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him.

            As Zelda took a step forward down the aisleway, the quintet began playing a beautiful, ancient melody, a song that had been passed down the royal family for many generations. As she seemingly floated down the aisle, each row of people stood up and bowed as she passed them.

            She reached the front, where she ascended the three small steps up to the throne itself. She turned and sat down, just as the quintet finished the melody.

            The room went quiet again. Zelda looked out amongst her people, her eyes scanning the rows before moving onto the wall of knights, until she made eye contact with Link.

            She blinked. He blinked back.

            The high priest, an elderly, balding man, approached the throne. In his hands was the crown; it was adorned with beautiful jewels, a golden Triforce at its apex.

            “Her Majesty, Queen Zelda Nohansen. Does your Majesty swear to guide and protect the Kingdom of Hyrule to the best of your Goddess-given ability?”

            “I swear it,” Zelda said.

            “Does your Majesty swear to do right by the people?”

            “I swear it.”

            “Does your Majesty swear to uphold the will of the Goddess?”

            “I swear it.”

            “Then so be it.” The high priest placed the crown atop Zelda’s head, the jewels glittering in the light. He bowed once to her, and then turned around to face the people. “Her Majesty, Queen Zelda Nohansen of Hyrule! May she live a long and prosperous life!”

            The lord and ladies clapped loudly. After the applause died down, the noblemen began to encircle the throne, approaching one by one.

            Link watched as each nobleman bowed and took Zelda’s hand, kissing it gently as she acknowledged them by name as members of her court.

            There were about twenty or thirty noblemen, each one dressed in pompous garments. One of the noblemen was dressed in a deep blue outfit, complete with a ridiculous overcoat, his white stockings sticking out against the dark colour. Link couldn’t understand why those preposterous outfits were necessary; how did they possibly signify wealth and prosperity by making one look so ludicrous?

            The nobleman approached the throne. Zelda put out her hand, watching as the nobleman took it. Then, he reached into his overcoat and pulled out a large, jagged dagger. 


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

It was as if time itself had slowed down.

Link watched as the man pulled the dagger out of his overcoat like his arm was stuck in molasses, the blade glinting in the light.

Instinct took over.  _Protect Zelda._

Link sprang out of his spot as the man lifted the dagger. Link pushed aside the other noblemen that were stupidly standing there and slammed himself into the side of the attacker just as he brought the blade down onto Zelda. She let out a startled cry.

Link knocked the attacker to the ground, slamming his head back against the stone. The man dropped the blade in surprise, the clattering of the weapon barely registering in Link's mind. Link buried a knee in the man's chest; he reached up in an attempt to strangle Link but dropped his hand as Link punched him in the face one, two, three times. Link reached to his side, scrabbling for the blade, when he was suddenly on his back, the stone cold beneath him, the man above him—but Link knew this move, had been through this motion many times, and instinctively brought his legs up to his chest, quickly rolling over so that the man was once again beneath him, his boot on his stomach. Link held the dagger at the man's throat; he could see his jugular vein pulsating. The man looked down at the blade and then back at Link, breathing hard. He raised his hands in surrender.

Link didn't break eye contact with the man, instead digging the blade deeper into his throat. "Is the Queen alright?" He said loudly. The fight had lasted maybe fifteen seconds. The atmosphere around him still felt far away, though voices from the crowd were beginning to strengthen as the roaring in Link's ears faded.

"Yes, I'm quite alright," Zelda said from somewhere behind Link. The tension in his chest relaxed slightly; he had the dull realisation that people were swarming around him and around the Queen.

Link clenched his teeth as he stared at the attacker. "Who are you?"

The man's nostrils flared, though he said nothing.

"I said, who are you?!" Link dug the blade deeper into the man's throat, a drop of blood swelling underneath the metal.

A hand was suddenly on Link's shoulder. "Sir Link—thank you. The Royal Guard will take this treasonous man now. You can let him go."

Link didn't move for a few seconds, fighting with himself on whether to kill this man then and there, or to stand up and let the courts of justice work. At last, he lifted the blade off the man's throat and stood up. He turned to see who had spoken to him—it was one of the Royal Guards. They quickly swarmed the attacker, dragging him out of the room by his elbows. The man didn't make a single move of protestation.

_Zelda._

Link whipped around. She was standing, hand on her clavicle, vehemently protesting the people that were fluttering around her. Royal guards immediately surrounded her, attempting to block the influx of attention. The crown had fallen off her head; it was lying on the ground, forgotten in the scuffle. Link pushed his way through the crowd. The guards attempted to stop him, but Zelda beckoned him to her.

He looked over her, seeing blood slowly seeping between the elegant fingers pushed against her collarbone. "Are you alright?" He said, throat tight.

Zelda nodded. "Yes, I am quite alright." She looked at him. "Thank you." She turned to the high priest, who was waving a white cloth at her, and took it from him, placing it under her hand.

Impa came up behind Link and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I think you just saved her life," she said. "If you hadn't gotten him to the ground as fast as you did, that slice on the Queen's shoulder would have been in her throat instead, I believe." She turned to Zelda, who was assuring some noblewomen about her health. "Your Majesty, let me escort you to your chambers. Link, you should come too, as her personal guard." She turned to the royal guard standing behind her. "Go and find the physician, Dr. Rigotto, and send him to the Queen's private chambers. Now!" She snapped, sending the guard scurrying away.

Link followed behind Zelda and Impa out of the crowd and through the twisting hallways, the dagger still held tightly in his grip. Zelda stumbled; both Link and Impa caught her by the elbows and guided her up to her room. Impa ushered them in, clicking the door closed behind them.

Zelda swayed slightly as she sat on her bed. The white cloth the high priest had kindly given her was now red and sticky beneath her fingers.

Link slipped the dagger into his belt pouch and rushed to her side, his eyebrows kneaded in concern. The wound wasn't pulsating; that was good. That meant the attacker hadn't hit an artery. Without saying anything, he gently lifted her hand from the sticky cloth. She didn't resist, instead closing her eyes in a grimace. He pulled the makeshift bandage away from the wound. His eyes ran over the sliced skin, assessing the damage, trying to determine if there was anything he could do to help. He desperately wished that he had a fairy.

Impa had been right; if Link hadn't knocked down the attacker when he did, then the knife wound would have been in Zelda's throat instead of her collarbone. The cut ran perpendicular across her clavicle and a few inches down her chest. It was relatively deep, though not deep enough to leave anything more than a mild scar, Link determined. Blood slowly trickled onto the bosom of her dress, staining the edge of it red.

"Who was that man?" Link asked her.

Zelda shrugged slightly, her face pale. "I don't know. I did not recognise him."

"That could not have been a true nobleman," Impa said. "Either one of us would have recognised him." She clicked her tongue. "I regret not getting to him sooner."

Link shook his head. "There was no way you could have gotten to him in time, from where you were sitting. I could have taken him out a lot quicker if I'd had the Master Sword. But," he said, looking directly at her, "no weapons allowed."

Impa said nothing.

They all jumped at a sharp knocking at the door. Impa cracked it open, and, upon seeing who it was, opened the door widely.

A short, portly man with large spectacles and a balding head entered the room. He was carrying a small medical bag. He went directly to Zelda; Link stood up as to allow the physician to sit beside her.

"Oh, hello Dr. Rigotto," Zelda said dreamily.

"Hello, my dear, mind if I take a look?" He scanned the wound quickly. "I must apologise for not attending your coronation; I unfortunately had an emergency medical situation to deal with. My regrets," he said calmly.

"Oh, that's quite alright," Zelda mumbled, closing her eyes. She swayed slightly.

"Do either of you know of the whereabouts of the dagger?" The physician asked, turning to look at Impa and Link.

Link nodded, pulling the dagger out of his belt pouch. He handed it to Dr. Rigotto. He turned it over in his hand, sniffed it, and stared at it intensely, mumbling quietly to himself. He looked up, then dove his hands into his medical bag, searching frantically for something. He dumped the bag over onto the bed, sorting through the miscellaneous instruments, bandages, and medicines. Finally, he lifted his hand to eye level, holding a small glass bottle filled with a purple liquid. He withdrew a dose of it with a syringe. Then, he gently grabbed Zelda's arm and injected it into her.

"What was that?" Link asked, glancing between the doctor and Zelda.

"An antidote," he said simply as he began bandaging her wound, "to the poison she was exposed to."

Link blinked and looked at Impa, whose eyes were wide. "Poison?"

"Yes. The dagger seems to have been coated with a slow-releasing poison, to ensure her death if the wound itself did not kill her. Thankfully, Impa requested for me quickly, so the Queen will live." Dr. Rigotto finished his bandaging and smiled at Zelda.

She weakly smiled back at him, colour beginning to return to her paled cheeks. "Thank you," she said. "I am awfully tired, and would like to rest, if that is alright."

"Yes, of course—"

Another sharp knocking on the door interrupted Dr. Rigotto, who jumped.

Impa went to the door and cracked it open. "Oh, Lord Kyrion—I must insist that you remain outside—"

"Nonsense, nonsense!" A tall, wiry man pushed his way past Impa and into the room. He was dressed in the frilly clothes that noblemen wear. On impulse, Link reached behind him for his sword, but bitterly remembered that he had no weapons on him. He dropped his hand, watching the man carefully.

The man went over to Zelda and got down on one knee, taking her hands in his. "Are you alright? I saw it all happen, it was absolutely dreadful!"

Zelda nodded and pulled her hands away. "Yes, I am alright."

Impa strode over to the man and put a strong hand on his shoulder. "Lord Kyrion, while it is very kind of you to worry yourself over the Queen, I must ask that you leave. Your presence here, in her chambers, is inappropriate."

Lord Kyrion stood up and turned around, practically towering over Impa. "I am concerned for our monarch, as is the rest of the Court, and all the other noblemen and women. I am enquiring to put everyone's minds at ease. And," he added, glancing at Link, "I do not believe that it is solely my presence here that is inappropriate."

A flash of anger went through Link like lightning. "I—"

Impa interrupted him, giving Link a quick look, warning him to be silent. "Since you and all the others seem to lack patience, then do me a favour and pass along the message that her Majesty is alive and will return to her health shortly. And," she added, "that justice will be brought down upon the treasonous man who dared to make an attempt on her life."

Lord Kyrion gave a small, polite but thin smile, and bowed. "Yes," he said, then went to the open door. He bowed again. "Your Grace," he said to Zelda, then left the room, closing the door swiftly behind him.

Link whipped around, looking at Impa. "Who in the Goddess's name was that?! Who does he think he is, barging in here and causing such disturbances, implying that my presence here is inappropriate—"

"That," Zelda said quietly, "was Lord Kyrion. He is one of the seven advisors on the Council. Can't stand the man," she added bitterly.

Dr. Rigotto chuckled and stood up, adjusting his vest. He packed everything back into his little bag. "It seems he cares about you greatly, your Majesty." He squeezed her hand. "I'll take my leave. Send for me if you need anything."

Zelda nodded and quietly thanked him, and Link and Impa mumbled thanks to him as he left.

Link sat down on the bed beside Zelda again. "He had no business coming up here," he said.

Zelda nodded. "I know. As I said, I do not like nor trust him." She sighed deeply, closing her eyes. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to be left alone now to rest. I am awfully tired."

Link hesitated. "Why don't you trust him?"

Zelda laid back, the braids in her blonde hair sprawled around her head. "Because during the Great War, he asked for my hand in marriage, on account that under his rule—not mine, nor the king's—Hyrule would win the war. Now please, Link," she said, eyes still closed. "I would like to rest."

Link stood up, making eye contact with Impa, exchanging a silent message.  _I will care for her_ , Impa seemed to say.

"I will be right outside," Link said, and left Zelda and Impa. He ran down the stairs and into his chambers, quickly changing out of the dreadful armour and into his green tunic. He grabbed the Master Sword and hitched it onto his back, the familiar weight calming his uneasiness. He ascended the stairs and stood guard outside Zelda's door, gazing out the window over Castle Town.

Zelda had almost been killed. Link clenched his fists, the sound of her startled cry reverberating in his memory.

Who would try and kill her, and why? The image of the man swam to the front of his mind, his piercing, unapologetic eyes staring. He couldn't have been a true nobleman, that much was made clear to Link; if not a nobleman, then who was he? It was only those of the court, the church, and the guard that were allowed into the coronation ceremony. And why make an attempt on her life in a room filled with that many people and guards? Possibly a political statement, he thought. A stunt, perhaps a warning? This man was an outsider; there was a good chance he wasn't working alone.

Link shook his head. For him, the world had usually been divided into those that were good and those that were evil; the intricacies of political games and scandals never made much sense to him. All that was clear to him was that for whatever reason, a man had tried to kill Zelda, and Link had decided with his full heart to stay and protect her.

He hadn't been fully decided, even at the coronation; a small part of him yearned for the world, to be a simple anonymous wanderer, to experience adventures every day. Now, however, he knew he had to stay, to help protect Zelda and to help put a stop to whoever had tried to extinguish her life.

!

"Your Grace?"

Zelda looked up from her book,  _A History of Hyrule,_  to see her chambermaid standing at her door. "Yes?"

"The carriage is ready for you, ma'am."

Zelda closed her book and set it on her vanity, looking at herself in the mirror. "Thank you. I will be down there shortly."

"Your Grace." The chambermaid dipped her head and closed the door, leaving Zelda alone once again.

It had been two days since the coronation; Zelda could only remember bits and pieces of the events following the attack. She vaguely remembered Dr. Rigotto attending to her, and a blurry memory of Link glaring at Lord Kyrion kept floating up in her mind's eye. Mostly, however, she just remembered feeling very weak and tired. She distinctly remembered yesterday, though; upon hearing that she was awake, Link had rushed into her chambers to see for himself that she was alright, that the antidote had indeed worked. Impa had told her that he had stood guard outside her bedroom for the entirety of her dreamless sleep.

Zelda smiled despite herself.

The reality of this day, however, returned to her. She was to attend the hanging of the man who had tried to kill her.

It hadn't taken the Council and the judicial court long to vote for the man's hanging; their quick and unanimous vote was easy to understand, seeing as how all of them were present at the coronation.

Zelda looked at the clean, white bandage in her reflection. She wanted nothing more than for this day to end, so that she could return to her duties of her kingdom and figure out who was behind her attempted assassination.

Finally ready, she made her way down the numerous staircases, descending into the grandeur front rooms. Guards were standing at each of the entryways, spears in hand, and her four ladies-in-waiting were patiently standing at the bottom of the staircase, curtseying and solemnly watching her with their birdlike features as she descended. Link and Impa were both waiting for her by the large front doors; they both bowed deeply when they saw her, though Link didn't take his eyes off her.

Zelda's chest tightened slightly. He was wearing his signature green tunic, the Master Sword rightly on his back.

"Your Majesty," Link said as she approached them. "I am glad to see you've returned to your health."

Zelda inclined her head, uncomfortably aware of her ladies' eyes upon her back. "Thank you, Sir Link. Shall we depart for the Centre?"

Zelda, Link, and Impa clamoured into the white and gold carriage outside, pulled by two chestnut horses, with the ladies-in-waiting climbing into a carriage behind.

The footman closed the door behind them, and immediately the carriage took off, bouncing and jutting its way down the winding path to Castle Town.

"I trust you know the itinerary?" Impa said.

Zelda nodded, sitting up straighter. "Yes. We will arrive, I will address the people, the Council, the High Justice, the prisoner, and will then sentence him to die."

Impa nodded. "They managed to beat his name out of him. Gregor Coulwick, apparently. No wife, no kids; lived on the outskirts of Castle Town. He wouldn't say what drove him to attempted assassination."

Zelda said nothing, instead watching Link out of the corner of her eye. He was staring off into space, fiddling with his blue earring; a sign, she knew, of his intense thought processing.

She reached over to him and gently put her hand on his knee. "The Council won't reverse the vote. This man will die, don't worry."

Link looked up at her, pulled out of his thoughts. He glanced at her bandaging, then looked back up into her face. "No, it isn't that I'm worried about—if they did reverse the vote, I would definitely have a few words to exchange with them. No, it's just—well, I've been thinking about it, and I don't think that he was working alone. I mean, he couldn't have, could he?" He looked between Impa and Zelda.

The carriage stopped, then lurched forward again. "I know what you're thinking, Link," Impa said, "and I share the same concerns. But Zelda will be perfectly safe today."

Zelda nodded. "I think another attempt on my life, on this day, would be too soon, wouldn't it?"

Link clasped his hands together, slightly exasperated. "Well yes, but—that's not what I'm worried about. I just mean that if he wasn't acting alone, then someone had sent him, which means that they'll be more likely to try to get to you again. You just have to be more careful, princess."

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "I'm your queen."

Link's lip twitched. "Sorry. Old habit."

The carriage lurched to a halt. The footman opened the door and helped Impa and Zelda exit, Link coming out after them. They were in Castle Town's centre, by the fountain; however, makeshift wooden gallows had been erected, and hundreds of people stood around the wooden platform. A second large wooden platform stood beside the gallows.

Zelda took a deep breath, looked at the platform, then looked at Link. "I don't believe I ever properly thanked you for saving my life."

Link smiled. "You're welcome."

She turned, breathed, and ascended the steps to the wooden platform. The crowd of people—her people, Zelda remembered—went silent at her presence above them. Zelda looked out to their faces and saw that no children were present; for that, she was thankful.

The Court of Advisors and the High Justice, an elderly man who represented the judicial court, ascended the wooden steps, standing behind her in an arch.

Zelda glanced behind her, seeing the seven advisors: Lord Wyncaster, Lord Tyburn, Lord Danelaw, Lord Montfort, Lord Hooke, Lord Carnaby, and Lord Kyrion. Zelda shuddered inwardly.

The High Justice took a step forward. "Present the accused," he said in a booming voice.

Beside them on the gallows, the man was roughly dragged up the stairs by two guards and placed on the centre platform. He had a rucksack over his head; they tore it off him and placed the rope noose around his neck, tightening it behind his head. They held him by the elbows as he looked out into the crowd, which stared back silently.

"People of Hyrule," she said, "Before you stands a man accused of treason against the crown and against your country. An act of treason is rewarded with death, if agreed upon unanimously by the Court of Advisors and the High Justice." She turned ever so slightly to the Court. "Advisors, how do you charge this man?"

"Guilty," all seven voices said loudly.

Zelda turned slightly the other way to the High Justice. "High Justice, how do you charge this man?"

"Guilty," he said, his voice croaking.

She turned to the people. "This man is charged with treason and shall so be hung." She turned to the man, who didn't look back at her, instead staring out into the crowd. "Mr. Gregor Coulwick, do you have any last words, be it in prayer or in plead, before you die?"

Coulwick said nothing.

Zelda stared at him. She had watched her father do this multiple times, and every time the person would always offer a few words of prayer, or would beg for forgiveness to whomever they had wronged.

A flash of anger went through her. "Mr. Coulwick, look at me!" The crowd watched warily as their monarch, who had been known for her level headedness, allowed her voice to tremble in anger.

He turned his head to look at her, the gallows creaking under his movement. "I ain't got nothin' ta say."

Zelda lifted her chin and made eye contact with the guard. She nodded once. The guard pulled the lever, and Coulwick suddenly disappeared beneath the trap door. The rope convulsed for a few moments, before going tautly straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next one should be up soon. Please feel free to leave a comment! :)


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